


The Note

by getoutofmyjaneway



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, F/M, Full Circle, Spirit walk, Voyager Relaunch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 02:25:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13448562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/getoutofmyjaneway/pseuds/getoutofmyjaneway
Summary: After taking command of Voyager, Captain Chakotay finds something left behind in the captain's quarters.





	The Note

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt by @icecream-junkie as posted in the Voyager Relaunch Bookclub:
> 
> "After Voyager returns, Chakotay is made Captain. On his first night in the captain's quarters he suddenly realizes that he's now sleeping in the same bed Kathryn used to sleep in." 
> 
> My muse decided now was a good time for some angst. This is my first fanfic in a long time. Any comments and suggestions are always appreciated.

**2378**

As Fortier left and the doors sealed behind him, Chakotay took a seat on the coach. A conversation with Commander Ellis was inevitable. Personnel issues was one of those obligations he was looking forward to delegating to his first officer, but he never anticipated that his first officer would be the issue.

Eight years ago, he would have thought himself crazy to think this, but he wanted Tom Paris. Not this pretentious and stuck up officer he was stuck with.

Sighing, he let his head fall back onto the window, looking up to the stars flying by. During his time on Earth, he had missed the view of the stars while at warp, the slight vibrations made by the warp core, heck even the hum of the air recyclers. It felt good to be back in space.

Good to be home.

Sitting up, he took a look around. Home did look a bit different. During their journey through the Delta Quadrant, he had spent a substantial amount of time in the captain's quarters. Now, he felt almost as if he was trespassing on her space.

But it wasn’t her space anymore. Her space was behind some desk in San Fransisco now.

He stood up, passing his new quarters. She kept a gramophone in that corner, next to her clock. She always had fresh flowers, courtesy of Tuvok. The walls were bare too, Phoebe's paintings now hung behind Kathryn’s desk.

He had replicated some tapestries and tried to reproduce some of the artifacts that had been destroyed on the Val Jean during the incident with the Caretaker to add some personality to old quarters. Perhaps if he put them up in here, it would help make the place feel his own. In a way, he knew, no matter what he did, these walls would always be Kathryn's.  

There was something missing he could easily solve. “Coffee. Black.” The familiar smell of Kathryn’s signature drink wafted through the quarters. Now this was home.

He took his duffle bag off of the couch tossing it haphazardly on the bed. He took a drink of his coffee, letting it run through his body before unzipping his bag. He grabbed a few things from the top, a framed picture, a few books, his medicine bundle among others and began organizing them into drawers.

While attempting to hang his dream catcher, he lost his balance a little accidentally knocking the half-full coffee mug onto the floor. He quickly picked up the mug trying to prevent the carpet from staining. He grabbed a towel and tried to dab up as much coffee as he could when he noticed something peeking out from under the side table.

He slid his fingers under the table, grabbing what he found to be a piece of paper from under the furniture. He was surprised to see anything was left behind, Starfleet is usually very thorough when cleaning their quarters.

The paper was worn, the creases seemingly had been folded and unfolded multiple times. He sat down onto the bed, unfolding the page. It was crinkly in some areas, a sign of water damage. The words on the page were written angrily, dark ink, crushed into the paper hard enough so that indents could be seen from the other side.

 

_Lieutenant Commander Aaron Cavit – Reliable officer and dear friend_

_Lieutenant Veronica Stadi – Had such a bright future_

 

He knew these names.

 

_Crewman Lon Suder- May he find inner peace in death_

_Ensign Marie Kapan- Far too young_

_Ensign Ahni Jetal- An impossible ethical dilemma_

 

Dead all of them

 

_Ensign Lyndsay Ballard- Missed by all_

_Lieutenant Joe Carey- Left two families behind_

 

She carried the weight of their deaths with her. He counted forty-three. Spirits, were there really that many?

He leaned back onto the bed continuing to read over the list. While reading, he wondered how he didn’t know about this, how much she dwelled on their deaths. Of course she dwelled on them. That is Kathryn Janeway. It is who she is. Fiercely protective. Intensely passionate. Privately emotional.

He could picture it. Kathryn laying here on this very bed under the veil of darkness, going over this list over and over again. The casualty list of the Starship Voyager was a constant.

A tear began to form in his eye which he quickly swept away. That was enough. He folded up the paper planning on putting it far out of sight. After a moment of consideration, however, he opened up the copy of _The Rime of the Ancient Mariner_ Kathryn had given him and placed it within the back cover.

Adding names was a tradition he hoped he would never need to continue.

He laid back onto her the bed again allowing his eyes to close for a moment. He couldn’t help but wonder, how many nights did she sit in this very spot, wrapped in constant guilt.

More nights then she deserved.

She got us home. Most of us anyway. Forty-three deaths are nothing compared to the entire Ocampa homeworld.

But how can you think that way when those forty-three people were your colleagues, your friends?

How can anyone handle that alone?

If only she had let him in.  

Let him share in her sorrow. To make her burden a little lighter. 

…

**2380**

He would stay by her side.

Bullshit.

He wasn’t there.

And her death was _pointless_.

Slaughtered in another attempt to cripple the Borg.

Venice really had been everything. After so long, after all the waiting, it was finally their turn. It is true, destiny _IS_ a fickle bitch.

His return to the ship was met with carefully tailored greetings and plenty of space. It was fine. Everything was fine. Until he returned to her quarters his quarters. His fist made contact with the glass desk, shattering it in a motion that would make B’Elanna proud and Kaz concerned for the shards now embedded in his knuckles.

Storming into the bedroom, he pulled out the paper he had found stashed away all those years ago, ripping it open.

Bright red ink bleed onto the paper filling all the remaining space in big bold letters.

 

**_Kathryn Janeway- The love of my life_**

He stared intensely at it, memorizing the curvature of each letter, before tossing the paper away.

So this is what it felt like. Alone in her bed. Devastated by a loss.

It burns like hell.

Sitting on the bed she once occupied, he allowed his emotions to overtake him. For the first time since her death, Chakotay wept.


End file.
